


Your Hand In Mine

by musics3xual



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Poor angsty John, Videogame fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:07:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musics3xual/pseuds/musics3xual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With that fucking overbite and those too-blue eyes, so bright and happy that sometimes you could choke on all the joy radiating from them, John was just too cute for most people.</p><p>However, Dave Strider is not most people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Hand In Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song 'Your Hand In Mine' by Explotions in the Sky, and you should totes listen to it as you read.

Today has been a particularly fabulous day for John Egbert. Carefree video gaming with his best bro while casually stuffing their faces with whatever they could find. He feels so relaxed and chill. Or, well, he would be, had Dave not been kicking his ass at this particular game.

“Oh, oh god, shit…” John mutters, throwing cyber punches that, sadly, do not land on Dave’s player. He bites his lip and leans to the side a little, controller in hand, trying to knock out the other.

Dave, exactly 2 inches to John’s right, is just as calm and cool as ever, leaping over and dodging every punch and swipe the muscular avatar for ‘Player 2’ manages to play. He returns each attack with at least twice the power and 5 times the accuracy. He is literally killing John’s chances of winning, as shown by the other’s health bar, which is down to about 20%, while Dave’s player is living the life at a solid 92% health.

“God, Egbert, have you lived in a cave? Oh no wait, even cavemen have better fighting skills than this.” Dave kindly states, pressing the X button repeatedly. Hit.

“Shut up, I’m not that bad!” John squeals, just as Dave lands the winning kick, sending John’s avatar sprawled on his back, the words “KNOCK OUT” flashing above his head. John groans and lays his head back on the couch, which they were currently sitting on.

“You fight like a girl. Oh wait-“

“I know, I know,” John mutters, then doing an impression of an exaggeratedly

Monotone voice, which Dave assumed was supposed to be him. “Even Rose can fight better than you.”

Dave rolls his eyes behind his glasses.

“God, with that attitude, Egbert, how are you able to keep the ladies from crawling all over your supple, young body?” Dave says sarcastically, and John’s fire is doused a little. He looks down at the remote sadly.

“Thanks, bro, but to be honest…,” John starts, still looking down. “Even with all this man-grit what a hot piece of dude I am, there haven’t really been any girls so… interested in me. Romantically or… otherwise.” John tells Dave, looking back up at the screen with slightly sad smile. Dave says nothing, for a second, looking at John with a blank expression, before reaching his arm up and around John’s shoulders, hugging him tightly. He holds the arm-hug for a second, then two, then pulls away, reaching back down to grab his remote.

“Come on, man, let’s play.” Dave croaks, and John’s smile brightens a little, but not quite enough for Dave’s liking. Both of the boys resume beating the virtual shit out of each other, but the gears in Dave’s head are turning. His mind is so deep in other places that John actually manages to beat him once.

“YES,” John cries out, punching the air. “VICTORY!”

Dave cracks a smile. So fucking cute. That was John’s problem; he was too cute. Too sweet, to adorable, whatever you want to call it. With that fucking overbite and those too-blue eyes, so bright and happy that sometimes you could choke on all the joy radiating from them, John was just too cute for most people.

However, Dave Strider is not most people.

Dave worships those stupid protruding teeth and the way John’s smile seems to make the sun look dull. The way his laughter echoes off the thoughts in Dave’s brain even when it’s not present fills him with all of these teenager-feelings and makes stomach do weird twisty things. In a good way, of course.

Dave has been swooning over John for a long time. A very long time. Since before they were 13. And now, Dave was still swooning, 5 years later, and he’s starting to think that maybe this swooning is going past the point of an innocent crush, and more becoming something… more consuming. Something that’s beginning to cloud Dave’s mind with things that make him want to hug a pillow to his chest and sigh like a 13 year old girl who’s crush looked at her. Thoughts like what John would look like in the morning, wrapped in Dave’s arms, just sleeping ever so deeply, and the way his hands would feel in Dave’s if he could hold one when it wasn’t just an ironic joke. He’d said nothing all these years for fear of rejection. He hadn’t told anyone, but Rose probably knew. Fucking therapist.

Dave did a flip kick, John’s player sprawling onto it’s back once again as John squeaked. Dave’s player pinned it, holding it down, getting ready to punch, but Dave didn’t throw the punch immediately. His mind got sidetracked with ‘Oh wow, John’s pinned under me helpless.’ He enjoyed this thought a little more than he’d like to admit. Then, John’s player had escaped, standing quickly and jumping on Dave, knocking off a good 15% of his health. Dave cursed, pressing buttons rapidly as John giggled beside him.

“Gosh, Dave, going easy on me?” He chirped.

“’Course, princess. Can’t bear to watch you suffer much longer.” Dave replied, punching the other player. -10 health points for John’s player.

“Thanks…” John mumbled, rocking from side to side in his cross-crossed seating position, as though it would make the player move how he wanted it to.

“So, Dave, any girls you’re into?” John peeps, and Dave almost drops his remote. Shit shit shit he had avoided this topic for almost 4 years, always saying something along the lines of ‘I am a strong independent woman who don’t need no man’, or just ‘nope’. Maybe he could do that now?

“I am a strong independent wom-“

“Shut up, Dave, I know there’s someone you like! Rose told me there was!” Fucking ROSE. You make a mental note to saw her in half with a rusty spoon later.

“Did she, now? How odd. Maybe we should admit her to a mental ward for an examination.” Dave muttered, still trying to play.

“Come on, Dave! Tell me!”

“You first.” Dave croaks. John stops talking for a second. Who did he like? John didn’t really know who he liked, to be honest. He knew the idea of someone being there for him, loving him, cuddling with him on cold winter days, the whole nine yards. There were lots of people he thought he liked, but could never really see himself with.

“I… don’t know who I like.” John sighed, his player pausing on the screen for a second. Dave’s didn’t move either.

“I really want someone to like me for who I am, be there for me, someone I can tell all my secrets to… you know? I just… I don’t know if I’ve met someone who’d be willing to do that, yet, though.” John John I can be that person John I already know most of your secrets JOHN.

“Come on, John, there’s a shitload of people who’d fight to the death to date you.” Dave ensures, then realized how horribly phrased and irony-less that sentence was. Fuck.

“Oh, really? Guarantee you that you can’t name any.” John states, raising an eyebrow at the screen, his player dodging one of Dave’s attacks by seconds. Dave almost bites his lip clean through. He does, actually, have one person he could name.

“Well, John,” Dave clears his throat, which is kind of dry now. “I would totally date you. I mean, no-homo, I mean…” Dave stops talking when John’s head turns to him, ignoring the players on the screen because what did Dave just say?

 

“What?” John asks, his voice small. Dave pauses the game on the screen without looking away from it.

“You heard me.” He breathes, turning to John, who’s eyes are getting wider and wider and Dave knows that he’s already got a foot in the water, so he might as well dive in. He leans a little closer to the dark-haire boy, pulling his sunglasses off so John can see his eyes.

“I’d date you, John. You could tell me your secrets. I’d kiss your tears away when you’re upset. I’d get our mad cuddle on when it’s cold outside. I’d make you breakfast in bed like the fucking gentleman I am.” Dave breathes out again, and his breath is coming out smooth, wet on John’s lips with how close they are.

“Because I like you, John. A lot. I might even love you, and that scares me, because I would rather castrate myself than lose you.” Dave says it so strongly, so sincerely, that John believes it without having to be told twice. Dave means it.

Neither boy moves for a few seconds. The room is silent, and the tension is ready to snap. There are two things that can happen now, Dave figures:

1\. “Dave, I like you, but as a bro! You’re my best friend! I’m sorry, I don’t think I like you like that! I’m not a homosexual, after all!”

2\. “… I think I should go now, Dave.”

Dave can’t handle either of those coming out of John’s mouth.

“Dave…-“

 

Dave’s mouth is on John’s, rough and passionate and so needy John can feel it. Dave leans forward more, bringing his hand up to hold John’s face in place before John can even process what’s going on. John’s mind is racing, then, because Dave, Dave, Dave do I even like Dave? Dave’s my best friend, and I’m closer to him than anyone and I DO love him, but HOW do I love him? John starts to pull back a little instinctively, but Dave doesn’t let that happen; he’s gone to far, he can’t just let up now. He pulls John closer, his other arm now moving to hold John’s hip. John gasps into Dave’s mouth, and the other boy takes this opportunity to kiss him harder. Finally, finally, John begins to kiss back, nervously sucking Dave’s kiss, but that’s all it takes for Dave to lose it. His arm wraps fully around John’s waist, the hand cupping John’s face pulling that closer too. Now that he’d had a taste of what it’s like, he can’t stop. It’s like John’s is oxygen and he didn’t know how much he needed John until right now, and Dave feels like his heart is being squeezed in his ribcage. He needs John so much closer. The silence in the room had quickly been replaced with the soft sounds of lips meeting over and over again.

John’s getting the hang of it a little now, his chapped lips becoming soft with Dave’s spit. His arms snake around Dave’s neck, not pulling or pushing, just resting there, his remote discarded somewhere on the floor. His eyes ease closed and he lets out a shaky breath. Dave takes this opportunity to allow his tongue to lick into John’s mouth, rubbing against the other’s. John whimpers, and Dave feels him jump. It makes him groan.

Then, just as quickly as he initiated it, Dave pulled his lips away with a wet, popping sound. He was breathing heavily, his breath coming out in pants against John’s face. He was only a few inches away.

“I’m sorry.” Are the first words out of Dave’s mouth. Almost a whisper.

 

“I’m so fucking sorry, John, I’ll… You don’t have to talk to me anymore, I-“

“Dave, will you shut up for a second?!” John growled, and Dave tensed, jumping back a little at the ferocity in John’s voice. Oh, I fucked up. Oh my god I screwed everything up and now John hates me a-

“Dave,” Dave is suddenly very aware of the way John’s eyes look this close up.

“I don’t… know what I’m feeling, and I can’t guarantee you this is going to work, but I… I really love you, and I’m willing to tr-“ Dave tackles John, pushing him backwards and pinning him, looking down at him with such surprise and wonder that John breaks into a giggling fit. It’s contagious, and soon Dave is grinning so widely the muscles in his cheeks hurt from misuse.

“Dave Strider, would you like to be my boyfriend?” John asks him through chuckles, and his chest feels all fluttery and warm.

“No,” Dave says, pecking John’s lips because he can.

“I’d fucking love to.” He finishes, and this time, John makes sure he’s the first one to start the kiss.


End file.
